The masseur handled every corner of me, every pinch of flesh. He washed my feet and stroked my hair and pulled and kneaded me into a floating fog. When Honey returned, my face was as soft as a baby’s and I could only mumble my thanks. She brought me a cup of tea and the doorbell rang again.

“Your dresser is here.”

In walked a blond, curly-haired angel. It was my friend Debi, who worked as a stripper and was dressed in one of her most outrageous costumes: white satin underwear and pearls, all covered by a sheer crinoline veil. But the clothes she had brought for me were even more spectacular.

First, she cinched my waist with a tight leather corset until I looked like an hourglass. She had me slip on black silk stockings. She rouged my nipples. Honey Lee brought out a black satin and gauze gown that exposed my breasts but covered my hips and legs. The lace tops of my stockings barely peeked out over the thigh-high leather stiletto boots she handed me. Debi crimped my hair and applied the same lipstick to my lips that she’d touched on my breasts. Such a beauty. By the time she was done with me, I could not make any coy remarks about my physical flaws. When I looked in the mirror, I saw Mistress Venus.

Honey packed up some parcels for the car. “I can’t go out like this!” I protested. But Debi had already thought of that. She folded me into me her black patent leather trench coat. Now I was a sex slave with an Emma Peel wrapper.

Debi kissed me and gave me some last fairy godmother words of advice. “You won’t be able to talk from now on,” she said. “Anything you want to say to Honey Lee or me, you should say now.”

I don’t know what it was, but I burst into tears. “I love you so much…and I’m a little worried about what you have planned for me…. I don’t know if I can be quiet,” I admitted.

Honey took my face in her hands. “Parts of today might be hard for you, Susie, but I don’t think you’ll regret it. Do you trust me?”

I nodded, but my heart did a flip-flop. I always fantasize about submission, but in real life, I am a control fanatic. I hated her for putting me to the test like this, and I couldn’t believe the lengths she’d gone to prepare for it.

For all my fears of not being able to button my lip, I suddenly didn’t feel like saying a word. Honey escorted me to the car. Debi, still in her bra and G-string, sped away in her Saab.